


What a Stupid Mistake

by HannahkinSkywalker



Series: What Would One Call A Relationship Between Two Psychotic Murderers? [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock - Fandom, crossover - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Flashbacks, M/M, Mental Institutions, hm, i'm not sure, meeehh this hurt to write so enjoy it bitches, sort of PTSD?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 08:19:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannahkinSkywalker/pseuds/HannahkinSkywalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Master was well aware that James had grown up in a mental institution, where he was broken and fixed and broken again for years on end, leaving him not quite whole.</p>
<p>And what does he do? He takes him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What a Stupid Mistake

No.

No no no no no n-

 

This wasn't supposed to happen.

This hadn't been planned.

 

The Master had heard about an old haunting in England, 1947. Of course, it wasn't a ghost at all. They never were. Ghosts were often time travellers trapped between dimensions, forced to roam an endless void until they're finally granted death. Sadly, most of these time travellers died within a month or so, as their frail bodies couldn't take the pressure. However, this particular trapped traveller had been around for ten years now. So who exactly could be that strong? Well, who other than a being that quite literally lords over time. 

 

The Master had been so excited when he found the possibility of his race still with an inch of sanity left, someone else who wasn't locked away. He'd practically thrown himself around the console room, sending the TARDIS whirring and buzzing to Earth. When Jim had tried to find out what was going on, the answers he got were all half gibberish, like a child on Christmas morning. He eventually pieced it together, and actually felt a little swell of joy for the Timelord. He'd been on his own for so long, maybe this would be the push he needed to help get his head back in gear.

 

The Master had failed to point out the nature of the building.

 

He didn't even realise he'd stopped in his tracks before the Master was flicking at his cheekbone, bringing his attention back. "Sorry, what?" He jumped, forcing his gaze away from the psychiatric institution looming in front of them. 

"Come on, what is it? You seemed excited about this an hour ago." The Master chirped, starting along the path again, and of course, Jim's obedient legs followed. "Nothing," he stated as they reached the back door, letting themselves in. Of course it was nothing. He was being stupid and childish. It was a hospital. He shouldn't have been so unnerved by it. 

 

It was the middle of the night as they started to roam the corridors, searching for the most well known spots for the lost traveller. They had to be here somewhere. 

It was about half an hour before the first scream. 

Jim jerked back in an old, Pavlovian reaction. Before he could think about it, he had the Master's wrist in a vice grip so tight the Timelord winced and pulled away. Jim apologised, pulling away as quickly as he's reached out. "What the hell is wrong with you?" The Master half snapped, his brow furrowing in confusion. Again, Jim only replied with a "Nothing." A little harsher than before. The Master hadn't thought how this would affect Jim. Hell, even Jim didn't think he'd be affected. Of course, Jim didn't mention growing up that often, so neither of them would see this as too much of a problem.

 

It wasn't too much of a problem, until they got separated. 

 

Jim couldn't remember how it happened, but before he knew it he was on his own, a door slamming shut behind him, setting his teeth on edge already. He stopped after a moment, slowing his breathing to a normal pace. This was ridiculous. He'd grown up in one of these places, he should have been used to the night time rituals of a madhouse. 

The screaming didn't stop. Everywhere he went it was there, only varying between louder of softer. The lights flashed on, multi colours designed to calm the patients when Jim could remember seeing other children being reduced to feral animals under them, attacking whoever was closest. They blinded him for a moment but he continued. 

 

_James._

_Stay still, James._

_Be a good boy for me, James._

_I'm trying to help you, James. Let me help you._

 

He shook it off. No, he couldn't give in. He couldn't let it happen again. There was no one there

 

_James, stop it._

_It's not real, James._

_Enough with the silly games._

_This won't hurt, James._

_Stop struggling._

 

He was fine until a cry came from about three different places at once. One on his left, in the room down the corridor, one on his right, in the room directly beside him, and one from him, it seemed. 

He fell to the floor, unable to see, hear, understand anything. He was in so much pain, but he was sure he was on a bed now, they were forcing needles into him, holding him down on all sides. He cried out, trying to pull away, fight a particularly strong one off and pull out the IV but nothing was working. Of course, as was ritual, the drugs began to take affect, and he switched off.

 

The Master was looking for Jim, searching through all the old corridors. He had no idea what was wrong, or why he had jumped to the Master earlier. The hospital was abandoned, there had been no patients for years. Maybe the silence was getting to him. 

When he heard Jim cry out, he threw himself down corridor after corridor before he found the human curled up in a ball, back pressed to the wall. He leant down to him, trying to get some sense from Jim before he noticed. Jim was scratching at his hands desperately, shaking all over. The Master pulled his hands apart, speaking to him the entire time. Jim lashed out at the Master, trying to push the Timelord away, or injure him, or both. He somehow succeeded after a few minutes, giving a forceful shove when the Master got too close. He fell awkwardly, feeling his wrist twist sickeningly. It didn't snap, but there was at least a bad sprain, and going by the audible pop, a torn tendon. He cast that out of his mind as he fought to calm Jim down, but by the time he got back to the human, he was completely out of it. Still conscious, of course, but focused far away. He didn't respond to any form of stimulus, and the Master had to check for a pulse. 

 

He breathed an audible sigh of relief, before coaxing what was left of Jim to stand. He let his mind wander as he guided Jim, who still didn't react to the Master's speech, out of the hospital. How had he let this happen? Why hadn't he thought that this might bring back some powerful memories for Jim? After all, he was only a human, and his mind couldn't survive as much torture as the Master's. What if this was it? What if Jim was just left an empty vessel of who he used to be because of the Master's selfishness? He didn't want to think about it, but the human he'd come to.. To love, was running on empty, as if his mind wasn't really there at all. Oh god, what had he done?

 

The Master kept a hand on Jim's back as he led him through the TARDIS, so he felt when Jim dropped like a stone as his body finally caught up with his mind. The Master quickly caught him before managing to get him to the nearest bed. As the fear began to subside, the residual ache in his wrist became known. The Master sighed, wrapping it and grabbing some ice to help ease the swelling. It wouldn't take long to heal, but it still hurt like a bitch.

 

After a short while, he cut his losses and sat on the bed next to Jim, who still hadn't come round. He absently ran a hand through the brunet's hair before he realised Jim was holding on to him. He took a breath, biting his lip to hold back the shuddered breath that threatened when he noticed Jim was still shaking. 

 

He'd always compared Jim to a shard of glass, still relatively whole, but sharp, pointed and cautious. Now, however, he feared he'd shattered his human completely.


End file.
